


Hell in a teapot

by johnmykawaiiwaifu



Category: Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 15:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnmykawaiiwaifu/pseuds/johnmykawaiiwaifu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alice has finally found her way onto the Infernal Train, and the pieces slide together as she talks both to the man behind it all and those who have helped her survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell in a teapot

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This is from Alice: Madness Returns, which was in fact not an option for the fandoms (GOD DAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN) 
> 
> Hm, other than that, break from my normal writing stlye, had a lot of fun with the hatter and that's it.

Alice looked around, getting her bearings as she left the doll like Wonderland and entered the cold streets of London. She understood now. She understood that she wasn’t the one who’d caused the fire, and the cat hadn’t done it either. Centaurs didn’t live in Oxford, but a certain doctor did.

She could see all the children now, mere ghosts of their former selves, walking with numbers around their necks, some collapsed on the ground by the road, others walking in and out of the asylum. A little boy skipped past her with a number 11, and she watched him running past the other children, the brightest smile on his face and she wondered how long it had taken him to go insane.

She spotted the dust and ash billowing up from the train station, and she knew he’d be there. Doctor Bumby, the despicable man behind it all. She felt like a fool, like she should have known it was him all along, like even if she didn’t start the fire it was still her fault.

The train station was dull and dusty and it seemed abandoned despite the fact Alice knew a train had just left. She was alone save for Doctor Bumby, who was standing with his back to her, leather coat and old hat on.

“You oozing sore of depravity.” She tried to keep her voice steady, hand clenched into fist and an outrage inside her. “Children wearing their names around their necks… as if they’re breeding livestock!”

Bumby turned around, adjusted his glasses and giving the faintest smile. “A declaration of their pedigree.” He said. “You could use one, they’re proud to display their provenance!” He threw back his head and laughed.

“You brute, they can’t remember who they are or where they’re from, how many minds have you twisted into forgetfulness?” She yelled, her own voice echoing back at her.

“Not enough. Yours would have been a triumph.” He glanced down at his watch, then back at Alice. “Still, you’re an insane wreck, my work is done.”

And then with a flash of white Alice was in Wonderland again, on the train she had been chasing for longer than she’d known it existed, a hallway in front and where she’d already been behind. She entered the main part of the train, red and purple plush seats lining the aisle and a few familiar silhouettes seated on them. She walked towards the closest one, the distinct shape of the Hatter’s hat, desperate for answers.

“Hatter.” She said, looking into his eyes as he fiddled with his cane. “I must stop this infernal train and the evil force that drives it.”

The Hatter seemed angry at this statement. “Everything’s a nail, is it Ms. Hammerhead? First it was your search, freighted with fear and fragmented memories. Now it’s the train!” He spat out the words like he couldn’t believe you spent your time thinking about them. “Never time for tea! While your brain’s on holiday, we’re ruined!” He stood up now, brandishing his cane. He really was mad. But he quickly sat back down again, and got a lot quieter.

“Now we’re all mad here, and that’s a good excuse for going to hell in a teapot, but not for forgetting what your senses saw.” He looked at you, his eyes almost pleading. “Forgetting is just forgetting, except when it’s not. Then they call it something else. I’d like to forget what you’ve done, I’ve tried, but I can’t.” He shook his head softly.

And then Alice was pulled out of Wonderland, picking up her conversation with Bumby. She took a few steps closer to him, speaking as loudly as she could without yelling. “You’ve used me, and abused me, but you will _not_ break me.”

“No, the damage is done.” He looked across the station, almost as if Alice wasn’t important enough to pay attention to. And indeed maybe he did think that. She was, after all, just a poor little insane girl in his eyes. “The old Alice and her Wonderland retreat are demolished. You can’t even recognize what’s happened.” He turned to look her face to face again, crossing his arms.

“And you’re powerless to change it or move against me.” He took a step closer to her, keeping his calm expression, letting his arms drop to his sides. Alice opened her mouth to say something, but he beat her to it.

“I’ve made certain of that.”

And then Alice was walking through the train again, approaching Caterpillar, his new wings stirring up dust and throwing around colors.

“Come to receive your punishment then?”

“I know I’m guilty of something.” Alice responded, putting an arm to shade her eyes from the blur of color and light. “But punishment never suits the victims of the crime.”

“Abuse is a crime the strong visit on the weak.” Caterpillar lifted himself from his seat, the steady beating of his wings filling her ears. “You’re right, abusers are insufficiently punished for the damage they do. Those who witness abuse without seeking retribution for the harmed pay a penalty. Your own pain mitigates your inability to act earlier, but you may not get the pain enough for witnessing the pain of others.”

Alice stepped back, the flurry of color and light and words confusing her. The shuffling and crying of children filled hear ears, and the blast of steam from a train, and she was back with Bumby. She shook her head, picking up on the conversation immediately, eyes burning with tears and hate.

“You’ve corrupted my memories, but you’ve failed to make me forget.” Alice looked him straight on, and he shook his head again, looking at the ground.

“Ah, I could have turned you into a tasty bit. Clients out the door waiting for a piece of the raving delusional beauty with no memory of their past and no sense of the future. But you wouldn’t forget. You insisted on holding onto your fantasies, you’re mad!” He shook his head and look down the tunnel again. “Just like your sister.”

Alice took a half step towards Bumby. “Don’t speak of her! You didn’t know her!”

“Your sister was a tease! Pretended to despise me!” He reached up to his front pocket, smiling. “She got what she wanted in the end.” And then he pulled out a key, the key that Alice recognized as the key to Lizzie’s room, tarnished and small on a bronze chain. It was attached to a pocket watch, and as she stared at it she felt the familiar pull of Wonderland.

Back on the train, approaching the Red Queen. She was staring out the window vacantly, and with a pang Alice realized just how much she looked like Lizzie.

“My Lizzie, what is this train’s destination?” The Queen turned to look at Alice, frowning slightly.

“Madness and destruction. You shouldn’t ask questions you know the answer to, it’s not polite.” She glared at her for a moment, a smile curling onto her lips.

“And that noise wasn’t Lizzie talking in her sleep.”

“No!” Alice cried, putting a hand over her mouth, the pieces finally sliding into place to show the picture she’d been trying to find since the fire. “Poor Lizzie!”

“And there are no centaurs in Oxford. Make your survival mean something! Or we are all doomed!”

And the she looked out the window again, and Alice felt your Vorpal Blade in her hand, finding the end of the hallway and an open space in front of her. A loud roar echoed through the air as the doll maker, the living, giant ruin like version of Doctor Bumby behind it all. And he hissed at Alice, he actually had the nerve to hiss, and she set her face into a determined expression.

“The past must be paid for!” He snarled. And Alice clutched your weapon even tighter.

It was time to make her survival mean something.


End file.
